And the silence loudness...
Of the midnight hour, keeps me up..
Like a haunted soul with echoing voices..
Heard in ghostly whisper..
These from thoughts...
In head's shells, running riots...
Why does sleep not come to me...
What is with this vigour feel..
Of all times, this one, this time chosen..
To be, In the midnight hour...
When lion's hunts of my tasty blood ...
Is given to rest , he's gone to sleep...
So let me be, in calmer waters..
Let me see the dream makers robe...
Let my eyes close shop for the night...
Let me in, into dream worlds arena..
Let me sleep, and awake to a new day...
I used to suffer from that but as I get older sleep is natural, great post man.
ReplyDeleteThere's something so aggravating about being awake at night, but I can't imagine that being the case every night. It would be - hopeless, in a way, and yet you show a certain creativity with it. Beautiful image, by the way. Is it one of yours?
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